Sequoia, citrus, Mineral King. . . all the usual subjects one would expect from an artist in Tulare County. However, I have heard Morro Bay referred to as “Visalia West”, so maybe the beach scene is Tulare Countyish. (I wish). The pomegranate is colored pencil, something I haven’t tried or sold in many years.
I try to show this in sizes that are proportionately relative to one another here; closies count.
Just because, here are links to previous posts of Sold art.
Here are three new oil paintings of oranges (thank you, Captain Obvious). Each one is 5×7″, on a board or panel, and comes with an easel for easy display on a shelf, $60, and available through the Mural Gallery in Exeter. (Actually, only two are available because one is spoken for, but I don’t know yet which one.)
These two oil paintings of the Kaweah Post Office have been reworked, lighting corrected, detail added, fuss, fiddle, fix. The top one will go with me to the Holiday Bazaar (scroll down) at the Three Rivers Memorial Building on November 19 (unless it sells first, 6×12″, $125). The second one will return to Kaweah Arts for sale there: 8×10″, $125.
P.S. They always look better in person. I’ve decided to not embarrass myself again by showing you the “Before” version against the “After” version.
Farewell at Dusk, 10×30″, oil on wrapped canvas, $500
There is an ongoing topic among artists about whether or not it is right to paint in order to sell. In general, the two schools of thought are:
It is clear that I belong in School #2.
Sometimes I paint something because I love it, and then I have to paint it out because no one in the local market of buyers agrees. The recent conversion of a river scene to sequoia trees is a prime example.
Sometimes I paint something that sells, so I paint it again and it sells again, and so on and so forth. Here is a recent example of that situation. Six times? Seven? I lost count. Because it was so popular, I painted the most recent version in hopes of selling it at the Silver City Store this summer. (Nope. . . is it waiting for you?)
Sawtooth Near Sunnypoint IX, 12×24″, oil on wrapped canvas, $550
And the best of all is when I paint something just because I want to, and then it sells. But sometimes that feels disappointing because I wanted to keep it. (So what’s the problem? Just paint it again!)
Sometimes I paint something, it doesn’t sell, and then I have to figure out why not. I did that with this painting of redwood and dogwood, and it sold very quickly after the do-over. (I was tempted to name it Red Dog but knew that was a loser from a marketing standpoint.) 
The challenge with every scene, but particularly those I’ve painted many times is to make it the absolute best I can every time. No auto-pilot, no “phoning it in”, no sleep-painting. Focus, focus, focus.
As I often tell Nancy of Kaweah Arts, “I came here to earn a living, and I’d rather repaint a scene that bores me than be a waitress.”
The best way to not be bored while repainting a popular scene is to continually challenge myself to find a way to make it the best I can. Because. . .
We are in fall, and oranges are a winter crop. But I have to keep a little ahead of the seasons with my paintings so that I am ready when the customers are.
The aloof Jackson jumped down after briefly inspecting my work.
After finishing the two Kaweah Post Office do-overs, I returned to some oranges.
A customer/friend (If your friends won’t do business with you, who will?) bought a 5×7″ oil painting of oranges that sat on a mini easel, then emailed me to ask for a second one. These will be gifts for two of his family members at Christmas, so I could paint the same scene again or make something compatible.
I painted a new scene twice, then did a third one. All of these will go to the Mural Gallery in Exeter, and my customer/friend can choose the one he prefers. I hope he chooses one of the ones I painted twice (“one of the ones”?? Someone find me an editor!) or else there will be twin paintings at the Mural Gallery.
Started one on a board.
Started two more on canvas panels.
Finished all three, now drying, waiting to be scanned.
Done, done, and done. (except for the scanning part)
Oranges are a HUGE crop in Tulare County and a great seller for me. At one time I thought I wanted to grow them; now I am quite happy to simply paint them.
(I don’t mean that I painted the building.) I am referring to the weather in my painting workshop, equipped with a fairly adequate swamp cooler, unless it is over 95 and/or humid.
Every year people say, “It has been such a hot summer!” as if that is news. Every summer in Tulare County is a hot one. My theory is that if it starts mild, you pay in September and October. This is the real world, muchachos, and you are in it.
Kaweah Arts had two oil painting versions of the Kaweah Post Office for sale. This is a quaint little old building three miles up the North Fork of the Kaweah River, which, until recently, was the smallest operating post office in the United States. Alas, it sold, and the new owner closed it. It is still cute and quaint, so I didn’t paint out the images on those canvases.
However, I decided that I could do a better job.
BEFORE:
One would think that I could just make this up without a photo after painting it about 20 times (if you count the do-overs, it is probably more). One might be right, but one isn’t going to know, because I won’t be attempting it AND I might not need to paint it any more.
DURING:
BEFORE:
DURING:
These are hard to photograph while on the easels. When they are dry, I’ll scan them for you (and for my records, of course.)
This is a first for the aloof Jackson. He has never inspected my work before.
(Improved) North Fork of the Kaweah, 10×10″, $150
(New) Two Big, 6×12″, $125
(New) Giant Tree, 10×10″, $150
The oranges are sold; the pumpkins are on standby, because if the other pumpkin painting doesn’t sell, this base coat just might become something else.
I fixed the two river paintings and then worked on another sequoia painting. It is good to have backup inventory for the places that sell to folks on their way to Sequoia. It is good to have backup inventory for all the places that sell my work, currently four, but Silver City will be closing soon for the season.
I have learned that the best sellers have light on the edges of the trees along with a burn scar. It doesn’t matter which trees I paint, or if I can tell you where they are in Sequoia National Park or even if they happen to be in Kings Canyon or Balch Park. Just big trees, sunlight, scar.
As usual, I’ll scan this when it is dry to show you. It is called “Too Big”, a 6×12″ oil painting on wrapped canvas for $150.
There might have been a question about a river painting that wasn’t selling. It might have been: “Why do those rocks look like potatoes?”
The answer might have been, “Because you are hungry”.
However, Nancy at Kaweah Arts and I concluded that her customers tend to be visitors to Sequoia National Park who are more interested in paintings of sequoia trees than of an unfamiliar section of the river.
When it is dry, I’ll scan it and try to remember to show it to you.
“There is no try—only do, or do not.”
Be quiet, Yoda. I didn’t ask you. I didn’t even like your movie, so why do I know this? In fact, I don’t think I’d recognize you, so mind your own beeswax.
The heat backed off a little and two places that sell my work requested more.
I started with the river painting do-over.
It sat on an easel with its buddy non-selling river painting. . .
and got a facelift. . .
…but we will wait until the bruising subsides and the stitches get removed.
I mean we will wait until it is dry enough to be scanned before doing an actual comparison.
Sometimes when a painting has been hanging around for awhile, I have to ask myself a question that is hard to answer: What is wrong with this picture?
This painting has been hanging around too long. It is the North Fork of the Kaweah River in Three Rivers, looking downstream from what used to be known (maybe still is) as The Airport Bridge with Blossom Peak(s) in the distance.
This is what might be wrong:
Stay tuned to see if those changes fix the painting.